


she exhales vanilla lace

by elysiumwaits



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies), Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Crossover Pairings, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Ice Play, Knives, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Pining, Reconciliation Sex After Long Estrangement, Reunion Sex, Temperature Play, Tenderness, Vaginal Fingering, banter in bed, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:13:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23693695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elysiumwaits/pseuds/elysiumwaits
Summary: Elsa banished herself five years ago, leaving behind everything and everyone that she's ever known.She both dreads and hopes for the day that Axel finds her out here in her winter forest.
Relationships: Axel (Kingdom Hearts)/Elsa (Disney)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13
Collections: Smut 4 Smut 2020





	she exhales vanilla lace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NekoMida](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NekoMida/gifts).



> I was super intrigued by this pairing, and I hope you like what I've come up with for you! I kind of took your tags and your letter and mishmashed your likes together with some things you mentioned in your letter for this pairing. It was supposed to have more knifeplay, but then it just got surprisingly tender. I actually think I might have a new OTP.
> 
> So this is a fantasy setting, which was kind of weird to do with two characters already from fantasy settings? So the kingdom is still called Arendelle, there's essentially no actual Kingdom Hearts here - I've modified everyone a bit to go with the more... realistically fantasy setting? That's a weird pair of words. Anyway, I hope that's okay!
> 
> (I also hope it's okay that I used "cunt" instead of "pussy" or anything else. I can't stand the word "pussy," honestly. If it's not, just leave a comment and I'll edit to change it, though!)
> 
> Fun fact, I spent way too long comparing heights since no one has an official height released from Disney/Square Enix. In the end, I just made it up. Also, I was searching for an endearment term that snarky Axel would say lovingly, and then I landed on "Snowflake" and was like "oh, that's perfect." I alternated it with "princess" because I could hear them both in his sarcastic, smug voice in my head. I love Axel so, so much.
> 
> Title is from "Love Like Winter" by AFI, which I thought was kind of appropriate.

There's less of a chill than usual in the air. 

Elsa notices the changes in temperature, when they occur. They usually don't affect her - she doesn't shiver in the cold, and she can stand the heat of summer well enough. Or, she used to be able to. All she's known since she turned twenty-one, since all the terrible things she almost did, is the biting wind of winter in a frozen forest of her own making. 

At least, Elsa thinks she's the one who's causing the year-round snowfall in this forest. Maybe she ran far enough north in her grief that the snows were already here. The trees are all evergreens, after all. It would be a comfort if she learned that she wasn't causing the constant winter here.

For all that she doesn't mind the cold, she still needs a fire to cook by. There's a small village just beyond the forest that doesn't seem to have realized who the strange wood-witch really is. They don't give her much trouble when she ventures out for supplies, trades little trinkets and jewelry that she's magicked up for food stores and firewood and anything else she needs. Elsa was even able to get warm clothing that didn't really matter to her, but helped her blend in a little better when she ventured into the village. 

Sometimes, she desperately wants to send a letter to Anna. She doesn't feel she has the right anymore, though. Not after what she'd done. 

Other times, she considers sending one to Axel. It's not a matter of wanting to - Elsa _wants_ to. But ultimately, more than she wants to see him, more than she even wants to see her sister, she wants to be left alone.

Once upon a time, Elsa was a queen. She only ever made one royal decree, and that was to exile herself.

* * *

It's at the end of a long walk back to her tiny cabin that Elsa realizes the snow along the path has melted. It spreads back out among the dirt and frozen forest floor as she walks, but it's never melted before. Not like this. Her cabin peeks out from behind the thick evergreens slowly but surely with every step that she takes. It's only when Elsa gets to the outer edges of the clearing that she stops.

The whole clearing is green. The air here is even warmer. 

But more importantly, there is smoke coming from the chimney. 

Before she can make a choice between approaching or disappearing into the forest once more, the front door opens. There's a silhouette standing there, darkly-clothed with an unmistakable hairstyle. He's framed by the glow of the warm fire he's already lit in the cabin, and he leans against the frame. Waiting for her to make the choice, Elsa thinks.

"Welcome home, dear," Axel says, light and nonchalant, when she starts closing the distance between herself and the cabin. "I hope you brought me a present." He steps aside to let her by, then pulls the door closed and locks it. 

"You shouldn't be here." She drops the heavy bag of food and supplies on the table, the bundle of wood and kindling by the little fireplace one of the men in the village had dug out for her a few years ago. 

"Elsa," he says, dragging her name out like he used to when they would bicker. Axel's voice is always so smooth, even when he's annoyed. He always manages to make everything he says sound suggestive, adds a little bit of a dangerous purr that Elsa doesn't think he does on purpose. 

It will be easier if she doesn't look at him. Getting Axel to go, to leave her in her exile, will be easier if she doesn't see the way that the light sparks in his bright green eyes. She keeps her gaze on the bag of supplies, on putting meat in an icebox that she built herself, one that never melts. On shelving jam and pickled vegetables, on the herbs that Katla finds for her every month in exchange for the pretty little ice sculptures that sit in her window. 

"Huh," Axel drawls. 

He's pressed up behind her against the counter, reaches up over her to pluck one of the bags of dried herbs out. He's so _tall_ , and it's useless to try and get it out of his hand. It's _undignified_ to have to jump for it. Elsa's not quite annoyed enough to shove him back with a bloom of ice. Yet.

He turns the bag over in his hand, runs his thumb over the sheer weave and the little handwritten tag attached to the twine that ties the bag shut. "This looks like red sorrel and... hvönn?" 

Elsa takes a deep breath, pointedly shelving the rest of the herbs she'd stocked up on. "Axel," she says, with a forced calm.

"I'm a little rusty, but I recall that these are important ingredients for a scrying." He taps the bag with one long finger.

Her hand shakes a little when she lines the next bag up with another. " _Axel._ "

The bag of red sorrel and hvönn is pressed into her hand before she can pick up another. His hand closes over hers - warm, so eternally _warm._ "You know," Axel says, and even his breath is warm against her ear, where he's dropped his head to close the inches of space between them. Elsa is wearing layers, but she can still feel the heat of the line of his body against her back. It's distracting, to say the least.

"What do I know?" she asks when Axel doesn't elaborate further, nosing at the skin behind her ear and before her braid.

"Witches can feel when someone's watching." He nibbles, gently. Just at the lobe of her ear. Elsa's hand is still caught in his, still curled around the little bag. "They know when someone is, say, burning herbs and looking into a mirror made of _ice_." Her breath catches as heat travels purposely up her arm from where their hands are pressed together. Axel kisses at her neck, and warmth starts snaking out from there as well. "It's been a little chilly at the Guild."

Elsa's thoughts catch up with his words, though. She pushes a blast of cold right back at him, chases the warmth from her arm and her neck before slipping out from under his arms and puts a few feet of distance between them by going to hang up her shawl. "Is that how you found me?" she demands, irritated now as she thinks about the warming weather lately. "Axel, you shouldn't _be here_."

And... now he's shelving the rest of her herbs for her. Elsa has half a mind to speak up about it - she doesn't care for his usual system after all, if he's even still using the same one - but Axel says in a mutter, "You know, Snowflake, _most_ people appreciate it when their long lost lovers track them down in exile."

Elsa's fingers twitch as her eyes narrow. A freezing wind blows through the cabin, and Axel looks over at her as the flames in the fireplace shudder and snap. It's not from any draft, they both know that. 

They're both still for a moment. Elsa's made the mistake of actually looking at Axel now, sees the red hair swept back and unruly, those green eyes, the little black diamond tattoos on his cheeks. Dark clothes, with the black on black embroidery of his vest and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He's never needed a coat against the winter wind, just like she's never needed one either. The only difference is that Elsa embraces the cold, while Axel warms himself from the inside out. And he called her Snowflake, a little reminder of the way he used to say it pressed up against her under the cover of night, sharing body heat under the quilts of her bed

He _burns_. He's the only one who's ever made her feel _warm_ , even for a moment. The only one who's ever kept her warm, in a way no one else ever could.

The fight doesn't exactly fizzle out of her just yet. Of the two of them, Elsa has always been the cool head. It's appropriate, she's often thought. Strangely enough, though, Axel's much more patient with Elsa than he's ever been with anyone else. Truly patient, too, not the forced patience that Elsa had to learn as Crown Princess. She has, admittedly, _unlearned_ a lot of it.

Axel puts the last bag up on the shelf, then turns fully to face her, nimble fingers going to the buttons on his vest. "If you _really_ don't want me to be here, you're going to have to throw me out yourself." He rolls his neck like he's readying himself for a fight.

It's a challenge. He knows her too well. Elsa strips off the second warm layer she'd been wearing, down to the simple blue dress with white snowflakes embroidered along the hem. "I didn't want you to find me," she mutters, and blows out a plume of icy mist, snowflakes falling from her tongue. "Do _not_ burn down my cabin."

"If you didn't want me to, you wouldn't have scryed me and given me an opening," Axel sing-songs in reply.

There's a flash of darksteel in the firelight, and then Axel's moving. Elsa's out of practice, barely manages to get a wall of ice up to stop his charge. He stops just before the ice between them, and Elsa realizes the disadvantage she's at, here. Her back is to the wall. She needs to get into a more open space. The cozy cabin isn't ideal for their usual foreplay.

He taps the tip of one of his knives against the ice. Even with the distortion, Elsa can see the smile Axel gives her. He flips the knife in his hand, dances it along his knuckles before he presses his palm to the barrier. Steam rises to the ceiling as it slowly starts to melt and evaporate under his touch.

"You're still so _frustrating!_ " Elsa's temper finally snaps. She darts to the right as his hand burns through the ice, freezes the wall up again around it as she goes, and enjoys the muttered curse she gets as his hand gets stuck. It's a distraction, of course. Axel will burn through it in moments, but she's hoping she can get to the back door and get a little more distance between them, a wider space for their faux-fight. "It's been five _years_ , Axel, how are you still so-"

She's out of practice, though, softened by creating trinkets and jewelry and sculptures instead of fighting her way past the monsters of Arendelle to get out. Either that or he's even better now, burns through her ice like it's nothing. The back door is just within reach, but Elsa gasps in surprise as one of those darksteel knives of his thunks into the wood of the door, startling back into his arms. 

And just like that, the fight is over. Axel's arms come around her like vices, pinning her own to her sides, and lifting her off of her feet. The undignified sound that comes from her is is mostly out of surprise, fades into a shuddered out breath as he bodily carries her back across the room. Elsa considers freezing him out again, but her secret truth is that she's been craving the warmth of his body against hers for five long years now.

So she lets Axel drop her onto the edge of her own bed, rumpling the neatly made quilts and blankets. His palm on her cheek feels good, physical warmth from Axel's naturally higher body heat mixing with the one that blooms in Elsa's soul at having him so close to her after so long. Elsa gives in, leans into his touch a little more and lets her lashes flutter closed for just a moment. She only wants a moment.

"You let me win," Axel says, a gentle accusation. When Elsa opens her eyes, he's smiling at her, close enough to kiss. One of his hands is braced on the bed, just a centimetre from hers. His thumb sweeps over the rise of her cheekbone, and warmth sneaks under her skin as he goes.

"I'm out of practice." It's an easy confession. Elsa was never much of a fighter before he came along, trained her in secret so that she could ideally learn to control her powers instead of letting them control her. Look how that turned out. She swallows. "Either that, or you're much better than you used to be."

Axel smiles again, but it's self-deprecating this time, doesn't light up his eyes. "Can't exactly be lazy in my line of work." 

The words spark something in her. Elsa lifts her cheek from his hand. "Axel, are you supposed to kill me?" A smile pulls at her own mouth now.

His laughter is just as captivating as it's always been. "Supposed to? Yes. Going to? Not a chance." 

Axel sobers. A sigh escapes him, and he shifts, leaning in for a kiss. It lingers, of course. How can Elsa be expected to pull away when this is what she's wanted more often in the middle of the night than anything else? Surprisingly, though, it's Axel that breaks it, and Elsa realizes as he presses her forehead to his that his hand is warm on the back of her neck, and she's got one hand curled in the fabric of the shirt under his vest. 

"If you want me to go," he says seriously. "If you _really_ want me to go, I'll leave. I'll say I couldn't find you, no one else knows where I was going." 

Elsa's hand is wrinkling his shirt.

"You just have to tell me," Axel finishes, in a soft voice. It's sincere, even though she knows he doesn't want to go. "I'll never look for you again if that's what you really want."

When it comes down to it, that isn't what Elsa wants. That was never what Elsa wanted. She had just been so wrapped up in her grief that the only option was to run, to put as much distance between herself and the people that she could hurt. And Axel owes his _life_ to the Guild and the other Nobodies, is bound by contract and blood both. It didn't seem like something she could have back when she was a Crown Princess and he was the assassin sneaking in to see her more nights than not. _Axel_ didn't seem like something she could have, and she's been consoling herself with little peeks into his life over the years. Just as she's done with Anna.

"You shouldn't be here," is what Elsa says. She doesn't know how else to say it, another way to wrap together the sentiments of _"I'm so sorry"_ and _"I don't deserve it after all I've done."_

Axel studies her face for a moment, eyes searching her expression. He must find what he wants, because his mouth softens and his eyes go bright again. Even his smile can warm Elsa. "And yet," he says, playfully. "Here is where I am."

Here is where he is, indeed. "Come here." Elsa fists her hand in his shirt and yanks, falling back onto the bed. Axel catches himself on his hands, and then drops to his elbows to kiss her again with an impish smile. It's easy herself in the heat of him again, in the feeling of his lithe body pressing close to her, even as Axel braces his weight on his arms so as not to crush her beneath him. 

"Here, you have to-" He pulls back and shifts. Elsa lets out a huff and grips at him even tighter. "Well, I can _burn_ your dress off, princess."

"Oh no, you won't," Elsa replies with a not-so-gentle shove at him. "I did the embroidery myself, it took weeks."

Axel's hand is warm as it slides up her leg to her thigh, skimming over the fabric of her tights and hiking the skirt of her dress. "Then roll over," he purrs, and goes just a little higher, almost to where Elsa wants it. 

He pulls back again, standing up completely. Elsa's eyes get caught on the way he's sliding out of his vest and undoing the buttons of his shirt. Of course he sees her watching, graces her with a shameless grin before he makes a pointed twirling motion with his hand.

Right. Her dress. Right now, Elsa's tempted to let him burn it off of her after all. She stands though, puts her back to him and starts reaching for the clasps down the back of the dress. One clasp comes undone before Axel's hands close over her wrists, gently tugging them back down. 

"Let me." His voice is low and silken, crackles with a heat that shoots down Elsa's spine. It's not the kind of heat that comes with physical warmth, instead it's the kind that makes her _wet_ , gives her a pulse of pleasure. 

There's even more when Axel's fingers brush across the back of her neck, trail down the small opening where the top clasp is undone. His fingers are so gentle now, like he didn't throw a knife at Elsa's back door earlier just to stop her from leaving. He never misses, though. Would never have hit her. Now he's undoing the clasps of her dress one by one, skating his fingers down the skin of her back. 

Axel shoves the material off of her shoulders and down her arms. His hands fidget with the end of her braid, and then he's pulling it free, running his hands through it like he's not going to mess it up within the next hour or more. It tickles her skin when Elsa shakes her hair out a little more, turns to look over her shoulder at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Don't give me that look," Axel says. From the way his mouth is twitching, he's trying to hide a grin. "It's been five years, let me have my tender lovemaking, damn it. I'll ravish you later."

Elsa fakes a put-upon sigh. "If you must." She loves him both tender and rough in equal measures, despite her impatience. Elsa would love Axel any way that she could have him. 

Even better, he knows it. "Oh, I _must._ " 

He coaxes Elsa out of her dress, until she's just standing there in her brassiere and stockings. The parts of her that Axel _isn't_ touching - her shoulders, her legs - are even warm. His hands are a brand around her hips, keeping her pressed close to his chest as he nuzzles past her hair to get at her throat. It's easy for Elsa to settle, to close her eyes as Axel alternates between gentle nips and open-mouthed kisses on the tender skin of her neck. 

The bite is sudden, and Elsa _gasps,_ eyes snapping open. Her hand flies up on instinct, but Axel catches it by the wrist, tangles their fingers together as he drags it back down, pins it under his on her hip. The gasp turns into a quiet moan as he _sucks_ , nibbles and worries a mark high on her neck, the tender skin just under her jaw.

"No reason to hide now," Axel whispers into her skin, soothing the bite with gentle licks and kisses. "I can mark you up all I want. No one's watching us here, Elsa."

"Does that mean I can do the same to you?" Her voice is breathy in a way she doesn't want to own up to, like she's some damsel swept off of her feet. 

That won't do, Elsa decides, and twists in his arms to get her hands on his bare chest. She skates her fingertips across the muscles there - Axel is lithe, body built like an acrobat's. He's surprisingly strong, she's learned. At least Elsa has learned in the best of ways, by getting him naked and sparring, rather than being one of his targets. 

"Princess," Axel says, indulgent. It's a nickname, an endearment said with a fondness. It's not a slight against her, it doesn't make her flinch from the memories of being royalty once. " _Snowflake._ You've always marked me as yours. I think I have a couple of scars in the shape of your teeth."

That sounds like permission if Elsa's ever heard it. She smiles, and thinks about leaving a string of marks across his shoulder. If she's learned anything from Axel's training over the years, though, it's that the element of surprise is always preferred. So she just files that permission away for later, for the perfect time to pounce, and settles for gently touching his chest. Her fingers linger over his right nipple, and she hears the intake of breath, the way he tenses in expectation.

Elsa has to deliver, especially when she looks up to see the anticipation written all over Axel's face - a flush on his cheeks that no doubt matches hers, his lips slightly parted, his eyes hooded and blown dark. Pressed this close to him, she can feel his cock in his pants, already hard. He's probably been hard since their play-fight. 

" _Shit_ ," he mutters with vehemence when she sparks the first shiver of cold across his nipple. His head drops back, and Elsa watches in fascination, as she always has. She rolls his nipple between her fingers, tugs just a little, pushes icy cold through her fingertips in short bursts with no discernible pattern for him to follow. "Fuck, _Elsa_."

"Yes?" she teases, and brings her other hand up to lovingly torture his left nipple as well. 

The response she gets is passionate. Axel's hips roll against her, the height difference meaning that she can feel the way his cock kicks in his pants against her lower abdomen. His hands flex where they've stayed on Elsa's hips, fingers digging in as he obviously tries not to throw her on the bed and have his way. He loves the push and pull, and so does Elsa. They like to push each other to the edge of control, they always have. Once, Elsa had to find a believable way to explain scorched quilts to the maids. At least the black marks on the floor were easy to cover with a rug.

"Don't burn my bed," she says, absently, and trails her cold, cold hands down his sides to his hips. 

Before Elsa can get her hands on the buttons of his pants, get her chilly hands on his erection, Axel shoves her back onto the bed. He follows her down, and she scoots herself back further to make room for him to straddle her. His fingers work the front clasps of her brassier quickly, like he's trying not to singe the material or melt the little pieces of metal.

She laughs shortly as Axel shoves the material aside, sits up a little to help him get it off of her arms. He tosses it to the side carelessly, and she laughs again, a little louder. "What happened to 'tender lovemaking?'" Elsa teases, and wraps her arms around his neck to pull him a little closer. His hand settles on the small of her back, supporting her in her precarious position, and Elsa shivers as a scorching heat bursts through her. 

"You've been gone from me for _five years_ ," Axel says, and shudders as the cold of her arms hits him. It's a good shudder, Elsa can tell by the way his hips give an aborted thrust. "I'll be tender next time."

"I thought you were going to 'ravish' me next time."

His hands leave her back, forcing her to cling if she wants to remain half-sitting up. Axel shifts, so Elsa gives in and drops back onto the bed, pushing herself up to her elbows to watch him move down her body. His hands find her hips again, touch firm as he slides across the soft fabric of her stockings. Elsa's hips move of their own accord as he gets closer to where she _wants_ , until finally he presses his palm against her aching cunt. It's a blazing heat that shoots through her. Elsa arches in surprise pleasure, falling back onto the bed as her hands fly to grip the quilt.

When she focuses on Axel's face, he's wearing that smug smirk. "I'm moving the timetable up."

"Maybe - _ah,_ Axel." Elsa blows out a breath. No ice this time, she's too warm. "Maybe I _wanted_ tender lovemaking, after all."

He finds her clit easily, despite her stockings the material of her stockings, like he remembers exactly where it is. Elsa moans as he _taps_ it, little bursts of heat and pressure that drive her wild, but aren't enough to get her where she wants to go. The weight on the bed changes as he moves, braces himself over her again on one elbow. 

"You're wet." Axel is just above her. Elsa leans up, just a little, tries to close the little bit of space between them. He pulls back just before their lips touch. A frustrated noise falls from her, a sound a little too high-pitched to be a groan. "Don't whine at me. You said you wanted tender lovemaking, didn't you? Elsa, Snowflake, you're _soaking_ through your stockings. You sure you want me to take my time?"

Elsa rocks her hips against his hand, chasing more friction, only for Axel to shift himself and push her back down with the weight of his body. "You're a bastard," Elsa says. She's not whiny, she's just... passionate. It makes her voice a little higher. "If you don't get these stockings off and your mouth between my legs in the next minute, I'm going to turn you into an ice sculpture."

"Always giving orders," Axel tuts. "Well, I guess I can't refuse a request like _that_."

Axel is quick when he wants to be, which is more often than not. His fingers are deft and skillful, and the next thing Elsa knows, there's the tip of a darksteel knife at her hip. The fabric of her stockings makes a ripping sound, loud as she's focused on it, drowned out only by the long moan that she can't hold back. 

Elsa tried to admonish him. "I don't have more than a couple other pairs!" she says, but her voice comes out thready and wanting.

"I'll keep you warm. Buy you a new pair. Whatever." Axel's distracted, eyes following his own knife as he carefully cuts the stockings off of her body. 

It's a strange sensation, the knife gliding but not cutting. He's controlled, careful not to nick her. Finally, the knife is tossed to the side, along with the remains of her stockings. Just like that, she's bare.

Elsa tries to catch her breath. "That was... oh, that was longer than a minute."

Warmth settles between her legs, Axel's shoulder shoving them wider apart to make room for him. He curls his hands under her thighs, gropes his way up towards her ass. A trail of kisses starts just under her navel, hot and wet, shifts slowly down her stomach, to the crease of her hip, to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. 

"I'll make it up to you." His words are breathed into Elsa's skin, so close.

Axel's tongue is a lick of fire, a sweep up her center. He pulls Elsa closer by the grip he has on her ass, hands holding her tight as he lifts her hips for her. The first taste he gets of her shoots sparks through her. 

It's been so long. Elsa's only had her hand and memories until now. She has to hold onto something. The quilts aren't enough. She flails a hand out, tangles it in Axel's hair to push him down and try to grind her hips up. He's got her right where he wants her, though, and she can barely move against his hold. 

" _Axel_." Elsa's trying for a stern tone, a command to get him to give her what she needs, but all she gets is a hum in response. 

Just like when he speaks, Axel's tongue is quick and wicked here, too. He dives in, licking his way past her folds until she's shaking with it, tugging at his hair harshly. One of his hands drops her legs and comes up, a finger tracing down her opening and then back up to rub at the sensitive nub of her clit. They're teasing touches at best, shouldn't be enough to get her spinning as high as she is. 

The internal battle Elsa is waging against her own pride is spiraling out of control. "A-Axel," she manages, trying to tell him. " _Axel_ , I can't-"

With a feather-light kiss to her mound, Axel pulls away just enough to look up at her. She's _captivated,_ so very warm and lost in the intensity of sensations she hasn't had in five long years. He doesn't stop the slow, firm circles over her clit, just watches Elsa from between her own legs. A crooked grin spreads across his face, and the jester's tattoos squeeze up as the smile reaches his eyes. 

"So _let go_ , princess," he says.

He drops his head, replaces the motion of his fingers with quick flicks of his tongue. Elsa lets her head fall back against the covers, squirming in his hold as she gives herself over to his onslaught. After a few seconds of blissful torture, she feels one of his long fingers slip inside, gentle and slow. Just like that, Elsa is done for - she comes with an undignified cry, Axel's name mangled in a whimper as she pulls at his hair. 

It's the first of the night for her. Knowing Axel, Elsa's going to get a few more. She remembers how he likes to wring her out, push her to her own limits and then a little beyond, until she's pliant and sleepy in his hold. She's done the same to him, curled a hand or a band around the base of his cock to keep him hard while she takes her pleasure from him. Elsa doesn't think she has _that_ in her tonight - the idea of letting Axel draw orgasm after orgasm from her feels decadent, like she can escape her own mind just for a little while.

Sure enough, when she's come down, back to the overwhelming warmth of the cabin and Axel, he's still got a finger in her. It's a slow movement, a gentle thrusting rhythm, while he kisses at her thigh. Elsa eases her grip on his hair, petting her fingers through it instead. 

"You should fuck me," she finally says, enjoying the easy press of his finger. The word comes easy enough. Elsa hasn't always been one for vulgarity, but what can she say? Axel brings out the best in her. What she gets is a second finger, sliding in easily. 

Axel's mouth hovers just above her thigh, pressing kisses there as he fingerfucks her slowly. "I already am," he says, lilting and teasing. 

There's a biting response on the tip of her tongue, or maybe a plea - Elsa isn't sure - but it's gone from her the second he bites down on the inside of her thigh. She yelps, grabbing at Axel's hair again out of reflex, torn between pulling away from the little bit of pain of the mark he's biting into her skin and rocking down towards his fingers.

The decision is made for her when Axel picks up the pace, fucking his two fingers into her roughly for a few seconds. He presses a kiss to the bite that will no doubt be purple in a few hours, and then he slows, adding a third finger. Elsa is somewhere beyond speech for few moments, riding the edge of another orgasm so soon after her first. She reaches her other hand out, searches for something to cling to, landing on his shoulder as she tries to hold on.

Axel moves, lays with his cheek on her leg, face turned toward her. The hand under her ass moves, fingers curling around Elsa's, and she grips it gratefully. He doesn't relent, watches with rapt fascination as she quivers and bites back moans in exchange for breathy sighs.

"You don't have to be so controlled here, Elsa." He _curls_ his fingers, pads of them pressing into that spot that makes Elsa see stars, makes her clench and squeeze her eyes shut. "There are no guards outside your door, no one who can listen in."

Elsa breaks a little in the best way, draws her left leg up as far as she can just to feel like she's got some semblance of control, just to sate the urge to _move_. "Please," she finally gasps out, opening her eyes. There's frost on her lashes, she thinks, little crystal pieces of ice on her cheeks. The bed beneath her is steaming, her chill and Axel's warmth meeting and evaporating into the air.

"One more," Axel says, pressing _again_ like he wants to feel her tighten around his fingers. "Give me _one more_ , and I'll fuck you."

It doesn't take much. It used to be that the first orgasm was the hardest for Elsa, but that doesn't seem to be the case tonight. The following orgasms have always been easier, like they're just waves of the first, drawn out across hours into crests and waves. She comes again, gripping his hand and his hair with a force that _has_ to be painful. Elsa shakes with it, Axel's name tearing from her in a loud cry. There's no mangling it now - he's right, there's no one here to overhear anymore.

Axel gentles her through it, pulls his fingers out carefully as she comes down. The bed gives a strange cracking sound when he puts his hands down on it to lever himself. Elsa blinks, tries to focus, glancing first over at the bedspread and then up at him. 

"Sorry," she murmurs, lifts a hand to wipe the frost from Axel's hair. It doesn't matter. He's already steaming, literally, melting away the blast of ice she'd apparently blown out as she came. The bed's steaming, too, under his hands where he broke the thin sheet of ice that had covered it. Elsa feels light, for the first time in a long time, let's go of her hand to cover her mouth as she giggles out, "Oops."

He's smiling too, though, even as he's shifting off of the bed. "Cold doesn't bother me, Snowflake," he says with a wink. "Are you still up for a ride? It's been... awhile."

Elsa's reply comes a little too quickly to be dignified in any way. "Yes." She clears her throat, and Axel kindly looks down as he undoes the buttons on his trousers to hide his smug grin. She knows it's there anyway. "I _have_ come in the past five years, you know."

He pauses, fingers still on his buttons, and looks up at her. There's a fire there, green eyes gone sharp. A second later, he resumes his work, and then shoves his pants down his hips. "Oh, you have?"

It takes her a moment, but then she rolls her eyes. "By myself, Axel. Don't be jealous."

Axel's still got that spark in his eyes though. He prowls the few steps back to the bed and leans over Elsa, where she's half sitting up. "Was it enough?" he asks, low. "Did you think about me, Elsa?"

Her breath catches. There's a question there that he's not asking. "I missed you," is the answer Elsa gives. Axel's cheek is so warm when she brings her hand up to it, a flashfire against her chilly palm. 

The spark gentles, and Elsa can't see flames in his eyes anymore. Axel turns his head and kisses at her palm, before settling onto the bed beside her, shoving the pillows up against the headboard.

Elsa watches him, lets herself drink in the sight of him. She drags her eyes down his chest as he shifts himself into the perfect position, follows the line of deep, unnatural red hair that leads to where his cock is hard, curved up against his belly. Axel isn't overly thick, nor is he too long, and Elsa can admit in the privacy of her own mind that her mouth waters a little at the sight. She wants to taste him. She still doesn't know if one night is all she gets. Elsa doesn't want to let him leave until she's had all of him that she can get.

"Come here, princess." His voice is fond, knowing. 

Elsa's eyes snap up to him, and she quickly gets herself perched on his lap. "If I remember correctly, I give the orders when I ride you," she says with neither heat nor ice. She's ready, reaches under herself and wraps her hand around his cock. The hiss that escapes him as she lines up and starts to slowly sink down is her favorite reward.

"Next time," Axel replies, fingers flexing where his big hands are wrapped around her hips. He leans in and presses a kiss to Elsa's parted lips as she slowly, carefully takes all of him into her cunt. The friction is almost as good as his tongue on her clit had been. "Fuck. Elsa, this isn't gonna take long."

"Next time," she repeats him, breathlessly. 

The laugh that Axel gives is strangled. He's trying not to move, she knows, trying to give her a moment. "All the time in the world." 

He breaks off into another curse as Elsa rolls her hips, getting used to the stretch of him again. She's soaking, like he said, so it's an easy slide, easy to take him in and adjust. "You can move," she finally says, and wraps her arms loose around his neck again. "Axel, _please_ move."

There's a lot of power packed into Axel's body, despite his willowy stature. His hands lift Elsa easily, then drag her down again as he thrusts up into her, sets an even pace. Elsa's had him rougher, but she's grateful for this tonight, wants the desperate build-up that comes from the way he goes so deep, the sliding friction of the push-and-pull. 

"Fuck," she whispers, the curse falling from her own lips. She would try to meet his rhythm, but Axel's got a hold on her that she doesn't want to fight - his hands feel determined, his grip on her urgent. "Axel. _Axel!_ "

"Not gonna - _fuck_ \- take long at all, princess," Axel says, then drops one of his hands from her hips. 

The moan that startles out of Elsa when those wicked fingers find her clit again is loud, like the inherent fear of being caught has given way to how much she _wants._ Her nails dig into the skin of his shoulders as she rolls her hips, caught between the pleasure of Axel's cock in her cunt and the pleasure of the quick, firm circles of Axel's fingertips. 

"A-Axel," Elsa gasps, overwhelmed and clinging. She's got to be scoring marks into his shoulders, but she can't bring herself to care.

He's _relentless_ , purrs out, "Ladies first," in that bedroom voice that's haunted her memories for years now. "Come for me one last time, just one more. Won't come until you do, Elsa, so _fucking come_ for me."

It's a lot. It's so much. Elsa feels out of control just as much as she feels cradled and safe. It's perfect, exactly what she wants, what she's wanted even before she ran away into the cold winter forest on the heels of the worst thing she's ever done. 

The words are what sends her into a third orgasm, shattering through her like cracks on an icy lake. Elsa comes to his voice as much as she comes to his hand or his cock, and she spins, feels the cold of her power rip through her and burst outward. 

"Gods," Axel breathes, reverent. His hand pulls away, and he clutches Elsa closer, wraps his arm around her instead of his hands on her hips. One of his hands come up to cradle the base of her skull, tangle in the waves of her hair that her braid left behind. "I missed you, Elsa." It's whispered like a confession. He's got her pinned by his gaze, green meeting blue, and though she's managed to get her nails to loosen from his skin, she wraps around him as best she can. "Killed me when you left, princess, like part of me's been missing."

Axel hasn't stopped thrusting. His rhythm stutters against her, and Elsa vaguely thinks that he's close. It's confirmed when Axel lays her down, slipping out of her again even as she refuses to give up the tight grip she's got on him. 

He's breathless when he says her name, rutting into his own hand. Elsa drags Axel down farther like she wants a kiss, feels the heat of his cock against her stomach when he curls over her to accommodate. "I love you," she whispers before she kisses him. 

Axel gasps into her open mouth as he gives a final few thrusts into his own hand. " _E-Elsa_ ," he moans, and she breaks the kiss as she feels the hot come that stripes up her belly, reaching even as far as her breasts. There's a vague part of her that thinks Axel will enjoy the sight of her when he comes down from his own orgasm. 

Finally, Axel opens his eyes again, still panting. He pulls back with a kiss to Elsa's lips and then her forehead, before he's collapsing backwards onto the pillows he put against the headboard earlier. Elsa takes the moment to breathe as well, taking stock of herself. She's got a pleasant ache in her legs and belly. She's still shivering from coming, and probably will be for some time. The come on her belly and breasts is still hot and sticky, and she's actually _sweating_ , hot from Axel's abnormally high body heat.

After a moment, Axel sits up again, leaning toward her and tugging at her arms until she relents and lets herself be pulled to him. They settle again, Elsa's back to his chest, her head resting on his shoulder and his against the headboard. His arms come around her, and he lets out a vaguely interested sound as his hand swipes across the come on her stomach. That same hand ventures up to gently cup her right breast, thumb swiping over her nipple with a flicker of lazy, summer heat.

"I'm going to need a few minutes," Elsa says.

He huffs a laugh. "I'm gonna need a few more than you."

The smile comes to her face unbidden, and Elsa opens her eyes to look up at the line of his jaw. She rocks her head a little farther back so she can see the profile of his face, at least until he turns to look back at her. 

Axel had told her he missed her. That it had killed him when she ran, that losing her felt like losing a part of himself. 

It breaks her heart a little. 

Axel must notice. His brow furrows, and his hand leaves her breast to wipe across the bedspread and then settle just below her navel again. His other hand, clean and dry, comes up to pet at her no-doubt wild hair. "What's wrong?" he asks, gentle.

Elsa doesn't know how to say it. How to encompass what she needs to ask and all the apologies she needs to make. So she bites her lips before she says the only thing she _thinks_ can get the message across: "Axel, you shouldn't be here." Her eyes prick at the thought of him leaving.

There's a moment of quiet. Axel regards her, face going somber and soft, before the hand in her hair cups her jaw, big and warm. "You shouldn't be here either," is his reply. 

Truthfully, Elsa hadn't expected it. She'd been waiting for Axel to tell her he had to go back, waiting to see if he was going to try and take her back with him. The breath she draws in is shuddering, and she resists the urge to bury her face in his neck.

"Anna lived, do you know that? I killed Hans myself. I don't know if they have any idea it was me," he adds, gently. "She's married now. She misses you." 

Elsa gives in, hides her wet eyes in the warmth of him, face pressed to the curve of his shoulder and the base of his throat. 

"Elsa, you can go back," Axel murmurs. "Anytime you want. Anna wants you to come back. No one's scared of you, she made sure of that."

"I'm not ready," she replies. "I can't..."

There's a strange motion, and Elsa realizes she can feel Axel nodding slowly. "Okay," he says, and then repeats it again. "Okay. You don't have to." She sniffs, settles back into the heat of his body and prepares to go back to soaking him up. "Can I stay until you're ready to come back with me?"

It's a shameful sort of relief that warms her chest, and Elsa smiles into his throat despite the tears in her eyes. "Yes," she says simply, and if she clings to him a little tighter, no one's there to see but her and Axel.


End file.
